


The Bough That Bends

by Suaine



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 21:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suaine/pseuds/Suaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thassarian is missing something. He just has to figure out what he is willing to do to get it back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bough That Bends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boingboing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boingboing/gifts).



The heat of the realm of fire crawled over Thassarian's skin like the fingers of a dead lover. He hated the elemental plane on a visceral level, always uncomfortable and never quite able to point out why. As death knight he should have been immune to the effects of the blistering heat and the ever present fires, but steam seemed to catch under his armor and drenched him despite his inability to sweat.

Under the young sentinel tree he could find some relief and some time to think. Neither were in plentiful supply. Ever since the shattering of the world they had been reacting, following the lead of their enemy. Thassarian could feel the familiar frustration rise within him. It did not help that recently his thoughts had been so dominated by the fate of his friend.

Brother.

Perhaps more than that, if they could ever manage to be in the same place long enough to truly talk. It was foolish to miss those months under the Lich King's yoke, but at least then he'd had purpose and a feeling of belonging. Now he drifted in this impossible war against the elements themselves. What use could one person be in that?

"Sir, permission to speak?"

The knight was tiny, not quite a gnome but short for a dwarf, and Thassarian remembered that she had been one of the last new recruits before the Ebon Blade turned its point toward Icecrown. She'd never truly sworn herself to the Lich King and had had an easier time finding her roots again. He envied her, even though the loss had been as great as his own.

"Feel free," he said, gesturing for her to sit in the shade of the sentinel tree. "Have you word from the front?"

She hesitated, but sat gingerly under the low hanging boughs. "Not the front, Sir. On my way back from the Forlorn Spire, I met an old... acquaintance."

Thassarian tilted his head. "Acquaintance?"

She leaned back, her gaze traveling upward. "Do I dare call my brothers in death friends now that the thrall of the Lich King is broken? He spoke to me of someone we both know."

Thassarian could smell the sickly sweet scent of the flowers around the moonwell. He did not dare hope. "Is it..."

"Koltira Deathweaver. He has been seen in the Undercity, free from chains."

Thassarian looked out over the drab, orange wasteland that was Ragnaros' domain. "I am needed here."

"Perhaps," she said. The heavy armor creaked as she stood and stretched her limbs. "But you are also needed elsewhere. One soldier less will not make a difference against the earth itself, but one man may change someone's entire world."

Thassarian nodded and watched as she picked her way down to the moonwell. The waters were painful when spilled on undead skin, but something drew them all to the power and the life seeping from it. Some essential thirst that the well promised to quench, if only temporarily.

Seen in the Undercity. Perhaps.

+

He borrowed a gryphon from his dwarven friend and flew through the night. There were mages willing to take a man and his trusted steed back to Stormwind for a price and right then he would have paid anything that was asked. A new fire burned under his skin, something that felt like hope and potential. If he could have this one thing, everything else might yet fall into place.

Stormwind at night still bustled with life. The city never slept, but he gave himself even odds that his sister had turned in hours ago. He had not spoken to her since Deathwing's attack and it seemed like she was forever watching him go to war. This time, perhaps, she would watch him find peace.

The shop was dark, of course, but a light burned merrily in the window of her room. He stood at the door for a moment, once again wondering if he should not just let her go, disappear from her life forever. But he had already taken so much from her. It was not just his choice to make.

He knocked and listened as lazy footsteps descended the stairs. She'd brought a lantern and in the flickering light her face looked almost exactly like their mother's. Thassarian raised his hand in a timid wave.

"You," she said, and punched him in face.

+

There had been hugs, after, and many assurances that indeed, both of them were fine and stop worrying, Thass. He ate some of her cold dinner to have something to do with his hands.

"So let me get this straight," she said and he could hear her rolling her eyes. That stew really looked a lot like a guy he once knew. "You want to storm the stronghold of the Forsaken to rescue some elf rather than stay with your sister for a few days."

"Koltira is not just some elf," he grumbled under his breath.

"Well," she huffed, "I wouldn't know, now would I? My brother doesn't tell me these things anymore. And here I always thought you did not marry because of your devotion to the sword." A beat of silence, then she broke into giggles. "Sorry, that was bad, even for me."

"I appreciate you keeping out of my, er, personal business."

"Thass," she said as she patted his shoulder, "I would never keep out of your personal business." She popped one of the cold beef chunks into her mouth and chewed with gusto. "I was merely apologizing for the truly terrible pun. I can do better than that."

Thassarian put his head in his hands. "Please don't."

As she ruffled his hair, laughing brightly, Thassarian felt unexpectedly grounded. He tended to wallow in his own misery and forget that there were still people who loved him. And one of them surely needed his help right now.

"I must go," he said as dawn broke over the harbor. His sister smiled.

"Of course. Give that elf of yours a great big kiss from me, when you find him."

+

Reaching Undercity had become a gauntlet of frustration. With Southshore gone he had to fly most of the way, driving his borrowed gryphon harder than the poor thing deserved. He left her at Aerie Peak and rode the rest of the way, taking the time to think of what he could possibly say. They had known each other for such a short time compared to all that had kept them apart. Their lives seemed destined to only ever intersect for short periods and run wildly off into another direction when they had only just found each other again.

An elf, Thassarian thought, his elf.

He drove his horse harder and thought of all the things he wanted to say.

+

"If you could put down that sword," had not been on the list. And yet, it did seem imperative with the wicked point so close to his heart. Oh, his sister would truly appreciate the irony of the situation.

"The Lady said you would come. She said to kill you."

He had to give her that, Sylvannas sure knew how to make an impression. If she could erase memories and replace them with eternal devotion to her cause it would only be a matter of time until she ruled all of Azeroth.

"And yet you hesitate, why is that?"

Koltira cocked his head and frowned. Thassarian was struck somewhat unexpectedly with a desire to kiss those lines away. He'd not felt arousal since his death, but this warmth coming from deep inside him made up for the difference. He grinned despite the Banshee Queen's effort to make his unlife miserable.

"Put down the sword, friend." He moved very carefully, leaning forward as the pressure of the sword fell away. They were close enough to kiss, if that were his desire. Part of him could no longer deny that it was. "You called me brother, once."

Koltira let the sword fall with a loud clattering sound. "I think I- remember? It was very cold."

Thassarian laughed, remembering the ice of Northrend and the fire of Hyjal. "The snow looked good on you," he said, wanting to take the words back the moment they left his mouth. But then he had never been smooth in life, so why start now?

"You," Koltira began. His fingers followed the line of Thassarian's jaw, threading through the long hair behind his ear. Thassarian shivered. Only very few things had felt this real since his death, so many sensations fell flat, but this burned like the sun. "I used to think you were the only warm spot in a field of ice."

Thassarian caught the hand that had cupped his face before it could fall away. "I do not wish to call you brother again."

Koltira's eyes had changed again, from that milky, red haze that Sylvannas had cast over them to the etheral blue they all shared. Thassarian waited. "Then what would you call me?"

"Beloved, if you could stand it, heart of my heart."

Koltira chuckled but did not pull away. "Oh dear, did you get that from a book? It's rather terrible all things considered."

Thassarian laughed, pressing his lips to the cool, chapped lips of the man who had once been enemy, friend, brother and now...

"Then I must simply call you mine," Thassarian growled before he deepened the kiss.

+

 _My dearest brother,_

 _I have heard tell that you have returned to take your place in the fight against Deathwing. Do not try to find my spies, for they are very good and will only deny it._

 _Do tell Koltira that if he ever hurts you I will personally chop him to pieces and feed him to my pet shark in the harbor. I call it Fluffy and it is very hungry indeed._

 _Love,  
Your sister, always._


End file.
